The Candlemaker's Apprentice
by Desert Crossing
Summary: The adventure of a small mouse named Marlette. Takes place during "The Horse and His Boy".
1. Day

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia, only one guy does...

Day

"Will we make it home grandydaddy?" Lightning flashed, crack! The two badgerlings were clinging to their grandfather like leaves to a tree in fall. However, it was summer and a great lightning storm had creeped in, He was moving toward the orchard as fast as an elderly badger with two children can. He looked around for somewhere to take shelter, they dashed into a glade, flash, crack! A tree stood watch in the glade, large like a fortress, and a luminescent grey. Fireflies danced around it in swirls of glow. He paused as he remembered the history of that tree, knowing it would be the safest place, yet hesistant like someone reluctant to into a room because it contains portraits of themselves in younger more adventurous years. Flash! Pause. Shaking rumble. He corraled the children under the tree, deciding to wait out the storm, this would be the safest place, he knew. Flash! This one closer. Crack!

"Grandydaddy, why are there storms?"

"Sometimes Marlette, storms put us exactly where we need to be, sometimes they give us courage, if we can face lightning from the sky, we can face any form of darkness, no matter what." He looked up again, flash! Crack! "They help us grow up." If he were to keep a diary, he would have described this experience as eerie, inoportune, uncanny.

"But grandydaddy, _why_ are there storms?" She persisted.

"So that we now how good sunny days are."

"I wish I could make storms! I would make lightning strike just to scare people! KA-PFFF!"

"I don't think you'd like that that much. And besides, how would you feel if lightning struck next to you all the time?"

"Oh, I guess I would be scared a lot of the time."

"Yeah, if you don't like something, just think of how much other people don't like it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Grandydaddy?" Her brother piped up, "Why is this tree glowing like a giant candle?"

_Eerie, absolutely eerie._ He shivered, "Perid, would you like to hear a story?"

"Sure!"

"Would you like to hear a story about this tree?"

"Yeah!" In unison.

"Okay, sit down and get settled, this is going to be a long story, so no talking or I'm going to get distracted and forget, okay?" They nodded. "Well, the story begins in Cair Paravel, before you two were even born. Queen Lucy was speaking with the Master Candlemaker of Cair Paravel, he had a mouse apprentice who had been raised in the castle all her life. She had just been left in the courtyard, scared, wet, and alone. The Master Candlemaker, a badger, his wife had died several years before from grief at the loss of her son, and he thought he had no children at the time, so he took her in and began teaching her the ways of candlemaking. She knew it was wrong to listen from behind doors, but any news from outside the castle fascinated her, and so she couldn't help herself, she listened to her master and Queen Lucy talking in the hallway.

"'I'm sorry to put this burden on your back, Grimble, but my royal sister is insisting on a midnight sending-off feast, and I'm checking for last minute preparations. Tonight, she's off to meet her first suitor, and she wants to make a grand deal of it. "Out with the moon and in with the sun!" as she put it. Sometimes I worry about her eagerness to grow up.' She bit her lip, then relaxed, 'But enough of my sister, do we have enough candles to light a great feast at the stroke of midnight?'

"'Of course my lady, our stockpile is at this moment only half full, but it shall be enough, all it means is double duty for my apprentice and I afterward.'

"'Have you ever thought of taking on more apprentices? It would certainly lighten the load.' She looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"'Of course, but one pupil is enough for an old badger like me, and I need to keep up my strength!'

"'Thank you for your kindness badger, now I must talk to my royal brother Peter, a messenger came from the centaur Meadowglen saying she would arrive tomorrow with great news for our kingdom, I haven't told Susan, I won't worry her on what could be one the happiest moments of her life.' She bit her lip again, 'Oh, how our life grows. Grimble, I'd be honored if you and your pupil would join us for the banquet feast.'

"He gave a badger-bow, 'I'd be honored as well your majesty.'

"'Very well, I will see you then.' She stood, turned and walked down the hall surefooted, singing the Lament of Ages:

Oh, how the time slips through my fingers

as the tales of some lost life lingers

in the background memories

of the faded reveries

of a trumpet lost to the spring

Whose name could bring

Tears to the lost of the souls

whose love was stole

by the creature that creeps alone

"She stopped, and looked out the window to the near-setting sun.

Time! How silent a thing!

Burying a peasant!

Toppling a king!

Where the roses do bloom and fall!

Where the lives do grow and call!

Oh my voice! Oh, how I call to time!

To bring back to me, tender and mild

The far spirit of a life sublime!

The spirit of an innocent child!

"Memories of childhood swept through Grimble's mind like steps in a beautiful, yet quick dance.

Oh, how to catch the time,

and lay it down for all of mine!

Like the jubilant melody,

That spring trumpets shout so free!

Shouting the pass of another year,

And I shall cry and shed a tear.

How life has slipped me by again,

How foolish with the days I've been!

"Lucy looked down, her eyebrows pulled together, then she tilted her head back, holding back tears, like she was facing her worst enemy, and her voice did the same.

Memory!

That thing that brings life to days

begot by none but me!

The number of songs and lays,

That could not express the sorrow,

Of the unforgotten tomorrow!

Oh how sweet the sound

That memory abounds

In a life

I used to live

"Her voice softened out and she was quiet for a moment. then her voice shot up like a tulip in the spring.

I really would not mind

If life were not so divine

Oh how our life grows

as our love shows so softly

as the wind blows so gently

as the night flows...

"She faltered and looked at Grimble, a single tear fell down her cheek, she asked, '...so kindly?'

He replied, 'So bently.' Then their voices rose together to that height of reality that only someone who is really singing can reach.

As the moon is merely a pawn,

As clearly the king day shall dawn!

Silence penetrated the hall, like a knife into a heart. Lucy wiped her face, turned, and disappeared around a corner. Grimble stood silent for a moment, smoothed his fur, and turned into the workshop. Marlette had made herself look busy, "And how would you like a break?" he said with a wondrous smile.

PS/AN: Emotionally provacative? Rambling nonsense? Tell me in a review.


	2. Dusk

**Authors note: **This chapter and maybe a few consecutive ones **may** scare you, though I have tried to ease the tension, I still wish to maintain the themes of light and darkness.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Narnia, though I do love to hang out at Beaversdam.

**Dusk**

Looking up from the melted beeswax he was pouring into a mold, Grimble said, "Looks like we're about to have a spot of rain."

Marlette cocked her head and gave an intent glare at the sky, "But we had a blue, sunny sky just a moment ago." Looking back down at her work, Marlette placed the wick carefully, making sure it wouldn't fall into the melted wax.

"No matter, we have candles and torches to make, my mouse friend." Grimble gave Marlette a stern look.

"And how, my badger friend, does one make a torch?" Marlette crossed her arms and looked at him across the wax-crusted table.

"Right now we have to finish restocking the storehouse's candles." Grimble checked the stove in the corner of the room, and put some wood in it from the stockpile. "And you still haven't told me about the message brought to High King Peter." He took a pan off of a shelf, placed some beeswax in it, and put that on the stove to melt.

"It wasn't a message of encouragement I'd say." She moved onto the next mold, slowly pouring the beeswax, making sure none was spilled.

"Oh?"

"She said the stars spoke of danger and darkness over Narnia." Marlette spoke with a tone of skepticism in her voice.

Grimble barely heard her. He stared out the window, fixated. Those gleaming green eyes had him entranced. It seemed as if they would burn him up from the inside out. They were terrifying, of course so was the rest of the werewolf, but the eyes had him. The werewolf's eyes flashed as if new wood had been added to their fire, but before Grimble had time to say anything the werewolf turned and faded into mist.

"-rimble?" Her words sounded far away, like a sluggish muddy river.

"Huh...what?" Grimble replied rather shakily.

"Grimble, are you alright?" The words cleared up, and Marlette was now beside him. Her eyes had a tint of worry to them, the concern on her face was clearly read.

"Umm...yes, I suppose so." Grimble gave a nervous chuckle to ease the tension. "How about we continue this conversation on the west terrace?"

"The terrace? You just said we have to finish..." Marlette started, but Grimble interrupted her.

"The terrace it is!" Grimble grabbed her hand and half-ran, half-dragged her up to the west terrace.

* * *

The stairs seemed to circle up forever, as if the tower reached up to the stars themselves. A slight dampness covered the white stone walls and floor, which felt cool to Marlette's feet.

"So why are we going up to the terrace?" Marlette asked, following close behind the badger as he practically jumped up the winding staircase.

"Because, I wanted to enjoy the sunset with my pupil, and it's safe up there." He replied hastily.

Finally, they came to a landing and stopped as Grimble opened the heavy oak door. "Safe, what in Narnia do you mean?" Marlette gave him an odd look.

"Forget that, let's just enjoy the sunset." Grimble gave her a smile that just made her more confused.

Marlette looked out over the wall, but she didn't see the sunset. She saw the green carpet of Narnia, mist lingering between trees, stretching to the horizon. She saw the gray, overcast ceiling. But inbetween the two, where the usual sunset should have been, there was what seemed to be utter blackness. Complete, all-encompassing dark.


End file.
